When We Were Young
by SpacePrincess'xo
Summary: On the night of 16th October 2008, after telling Liam that she doesn't love him, Carla disappears, ultimately saving his life. Ten years on, she returns to the street she once called home and they are entirely different people, with one thing in common: their desire for each other. Essentially a 'what if' scenario, this is the story of Liam and Carla, and what they could have been.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone :). This will just be a short fic - maybe five or six chapters, just to see how many of you are still willing to read Liarla fics before I post some new ideas I've had. I love Liarla as a pairing (we'll ignore the cousin situation for the meantime, haha), and I love writing about them. I'd really appreciate your responses as to whether you still love them, too, or whether you'd prefer me to incorporate Peter into my new fics instead of Liam (I'm eventually hoping to convert to Narla fics, but I'm not too confident writing Nick as a character yet. Plus, I feel disloyal to Carter :P).**

 **The other thing I'd like to know, for all of my stories, is whether you'd prefer longer but less frequent updates (1,500 - 2,000+ words) or shorter but more frequent updates (I always try to update with at least 1,000 words). This upsates is just over 1,600, not including the Author's Note. As I said, I would really appreciate your feedback, and it will be taken into consideration.**

 **I came up with this idea tonight, after reading a completely unrelated fic about two former lovers meeting again. This is also inspired by Adele, hence the title.**

 **On the night of the Stag and Hen parties, 16th October 2008, to be precise, Carla disappears. Instead of telling Liam that she doesn't love him, going back to her party and crumbling by the roadside as she watches him die in Maria's arms later that night, she jumps in a taxi and goes far enough away that no one will be able to get to her, ultimately saving Liam's life, unbeknownst to her. And then-... Well, I think I'll let Carla tell her own story...**

 **Hope you like it and thank you so much for reading,**

 **Chloe xoxo**

When We Were Young

 _Tony just could not tear his narrowed eyes from him. He hated him with every cell of his body, in fact, he had never loathed a man more. And Tony was an extremely vengeful human being. Yet, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched him take a melancholy swig of his beer. For Liam Connor was going to die tonight. Everything was planned and set in place, and finally, Tony would have his Carla all to himself. Never again would he have to experience the agony that he felt whenever he knew that they were together, or the contorting in his stomach when he caught them glimpse at each other across the bar in the pub. Liam would be dead, and he and Carla would be happy. Finally._

 _Liam had been disappearing all night. Taking the opportunity for some stolen moments with Carla, no doubt. During their own Stag and Hen parties. They had no shame. The last time he'd re-entered the jolly bar that 'Tony's Tartan Terrors' had found themselves in, the lovestruck expression on his faced had been wiped clean and replaced by an overcast shadow; something had changed him, something had made him feel pain. Tony scoffed bitterly. Trust Liam to ruin his pleasure. He'd been looking forward to watching him die while he was at the happiest peak in his life. Still, he thought to himself, shrugging away the negativity. Liam Connor would soon be nothing but an unpleasant memory._

 _Tony was jolted from his thoughts by the shrill ringing of a mobile phone, and his acquaintance, Steve McDonald, scrambling to answer it._

 _"_ _'Chelle?" he practically yelled over the heavy thudding of the bar. Tony watched him in curiosity. Michelle, Steve's girlfriend, Liam's sister and Carla's best friend, had been so insistent on keeping the Stags and the Hens separate that night that he was surprised she was calling. "What do you mean she's not there?" Confused, a tipsy Steve covered the bottom of his phone with his hand and glanced over at Tony. "Tony, have you heard from Carla?"_

 _Eyes growing wide with panic, Tony shook his head. "No, why? What's wrong?"_

 _"_ _Michelle says she's missing. She's been gone from the party for well over an hour now." Tony quickly looked over at Liam, who appeared to be as shocked and concerned as he was. Carla obviously wasn't with him. Where on Earth was she? The Stags all rose to their feet and filed out of the bar to join the search party that the girls of Weatherfield had already begun. Little did they know that Carla was nowhere to be found. Tony sighed. His plan for Liam would have to wait for another occasion._

It had been almost ten years since I'd left Weatherfield. Well, not merely Weatherfield; Manchester, and the UK. Ten years since I'd rocked up on my best friend Suzie's doorstep in Los Angeles in floods of tears with a broken heart. Ten whole years since I'd last spoken to Liam. I'd kept in frequent contact with Michelle, of course. I'd let everybody know that I was okay as soon as my plane had landed in the States, once it was too late for anyone to stop me from leaving. I didn't feel guilty. I'd left for good reason.

I'd just found out that Liam's wife was pregnant with another baby after losing their first so tragically. He and I had been planning to run away together, but her unexpected news had stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't do it; to him, to her, or to their baby. But, equally, there was no way in hell that I'd have been able to live and work on the same street as them, watching them raise their beautiful baby together without being able to scream. So I had disappeared.

I know that there had been an incident between Tony, my ex-fiancé, and Liam, my secret lover, after I'd left. Tony had nearly killed him, he'd mowed him down and left him for dead. But Liam had lived, and Tony had been sentenced to life imprisonment. In all honesty, the incident had almost triggered me to return to Weatherfield, but only days later, Michelle had text me a photograph of Maria's ever-growing baby bump, blissfully unaware of how far I'd fallen in love with her older brother, and the sight had driven a knife through my stomach. So I'd stayed put, in the all-year-round sunshine, with the beaches and the tanned, muscular men with six-packs and gorgeous accents. The lifestyle really suited me.

I'd been surprised to see the message from Michelle, just a couple of weeks before her 42nd birthday, coaxing me home to attend her fancy party. She had chosen not to do anything for her big 40th, what with her son Ryan being away and her husband Steve playing the fool, as per usual. Then, the following year, she'd tragically lost a baby, and that had brought any celebratory proceedings skidding to a halt. This party was supposed to be a belated-40th birthday party, as she had referred to it. And apparently, it would mean the world to her if I could be there. We hadn't seen each other in the flesh for almost ten years, and although we'd texted and spoken on the phone and Skyped each other half to death, it wasn't the same. So, bizarrely, I agreed.

The flight back to the UK was hell. Thoughts of him plagued my mind, and I chose to convince myself that he wouldn't be there. That I wouldn't have to see him. That, for some reason or another, he'd be out of town, choosing to skip his little sister's big birthday party and take his beloved wife and son on a surprise weekend away. Other than a photograph of his tiny newborn baby, which Michelle had sent to me the day after his birth, I hadn't heard a word about Liam Connor since. I didn't even know if he was still living local. He could be living in Cyprus with his wife's family for all I knew – and hoped. And if he had a high-flying, well-paid job, which he was more than capable of, then it would be completely understandable if he were to swerve the party. After all, he'd celebrated the last nine birthdays of Michelle's with her; where had I been? Hidden away more than 5,000 miles from them all, desperately trying to get over him. I sighed, adjusting my eye mask to shield my eyes from the cabin lighting, reclining my first-class chair, and attempting to sleep, or at least to escape from my thoughts of Liam just for a few hours.

I wasn't staying anywhere near the street, even though Michelle had insisted that they had a spare room over at the Rovers Return, the pub where she and Steve lived with his mother. I couldn't face it. Instead, I'd booked myself into a hotel a few miles away, intending on grabbing a taxi after the big party tomorrow night. Much to Steve's dismay, Michelle had booked a large private function room in town for her party, insisting that she didn't want the affair to be 'just another gathering of regulars with some balloons at the Rovers'. I didn't really blame her, and I was relieved. At least I didn't have to go back to that street, to where they presumably lived together, a happy little family.

I didn't bother to unpack once I reached the luxurious hotel room, merely dumping my suitcase in the corner of the room, but making sure to take my dress for the following evening out and hooking it on the door of the spacious wardrobe. Absentmindedly, I fingered the delicate lace detail of the elegant little navy blue number. I'd toyed with the idea of wearing a red dress – he'd always loved me in red – but I thought that that'd be a poor reflection of the woman I'd become. I was older now, and although I was not doubting that I could pull it off, I didn't want to stand out too much when I'd been hiding away for so long. Besides, I wasn't trying to seduce him. If he was even there at all. He was married, and he had a child, and he was happy.

 _And living in Cyprus with his in-laws and a swanky job_ , I tried to convince myself, perching on the edge of the bed and drawing in a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. I tried to envision myself wearing the dress, which would cling to my curves and would show just the right amount of cleavage without being too trashy and, of course, would show off my gold tan, standing with faces of the past, just like nothing had ever happened. Like I'd never left. Honestly, the thought sent a shudder down my spine. So much had changed since I'd left Weatherfield. I had no idea who still lived local or who'd moved away, who had married and had children, who had moved to town or who had died. I didn't know who owned the factory now. It had been me and Tony, but I'd got Michelle to hastily organise a transfer of my shares to him after I'd left. An apology for deserting him, in a way. More's the pity. Obviously, he wasn't the sole owner anymore, being in prison and having no other close relatives to take over, other than a brother, who lived in his native Scotland as far as I was aware. I wondered if any of my machinists still remained – probably, knowing them. I couldn't imagine the likes of Sean Tully, Sally Webster and Fiz Brown working anywhere else. If those were even their names now. Maybe they had married. I sighed. Overthinking was getting me nowhere. Slowly, distractedly, I changed into my nightdress – Los Angeles was far too hot for pyjamas – and climbed into bed, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. I would find out my answers soon enough – in less than 24 hours, I'd be immersed in a crowd of the shadows of my past once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your reviews, they honestly mean so much to me. I really appreciate your feedback, and I hope I do this justice for you.**

 **I'm very conscious that this is too similar to the (unrelated) fanfic I once read, but then I realised that we both decided to base our fics on the same song :P. I really hope I'm able to shift it to make it my own, haha!**

 **I wasn't planning to update this quickly. But then this happened, and my mind got carried away...**

 **Chloe xoxo**

I eyeballed my reflection in the bathroom mirror, running my hands down my curved form. I'd lost some weight recently, but it barely noticed. The navy dressed flattered my body and nipped in in all the right places, the hem resting a few inches above my knees. I'd spent most of the morning in a jetlag-fuelled sleep, and on waking up, I'd had a long bath, shaved every inch of my body that I needed to, and given my hair a good condition. My hair was much lighter than it had been when I'd left, partially due to the sun that it had grown accustomed to. I'd then painted my toenails a deep red and buffed up my expensive L.A. manicure, before running some loose curls through my hair and locking them in place with a hefty amount of hairspray. Then came the time for me to wriggle into my little dress, which had slightly padded shoulders but no sleeves, a fairly low neckline. It was made mostly of lace, with a few diamantes scattered through it, and the illusion of a belt glittering around the centre. It was classy, and very much the new me. I wasn't about being tarty or seductive like I had been in my younger days. At 44-years-old, I was glamourous, but sexy at the same time. I breathed in slowly as I caught my own gaze in the mirror. It was weird to think that I was going to be showing off this new side of myself to the people that I used to know.

"You're such a baby…" I scolded my reflection, shaking myself out of my trance and padding through to the bedroom, plonking down on the bed to slip on my high heels. I laughed. Typical me, talking to myself. I rose to my feet, the heels only lengthening my already slim yet sculpted legs, which were a healthy tanned shade, all-natural and courtesy of the L.A. sunshine. Taking one last look at myself in the wardrobe mirror, I drew in a slow, deep breath, and released it, trying to regulate my nervous breathing. This was it. And I really needed to pull myself together. Tearing my eyes from my reflection, I strode towards the door of the hotel room, grabbing my leather jacket as I passed and slinging it over my shoulders. I tried to remind myself that he might not even be there. That thought was all that was keeping me from backing out and locking myself in my hotel room for the rest of the evening.

Stepping through the wide open doors of the hall which Michelle had hired was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences that I'd felt for years. As I froze outside, I was conscious that my heavily-thudding heart could be heard by those around me, luckily party-goers whom I didn't recognise. Biting down anxiously on my painted lower lip, I edged into the room; I didn't have a chance to look around for anyone I recognised as somebody leapt at me, throwing their arms around my neck and screaming my name into my ear.

"CARLA! OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE HERE!" I was instantly comforted by the familiar sound of my best friend in the world's voice, tears pricking my eyes and threatening to overspill. I squeezed her back tightly, not wanting to let go.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world, 'Chelle…" I murmured in response, genuinely glad that I'd made the decision to haul myself 5,000 miles to see her. Breaking away from me, Michelle took a step back to admire me, letting out a low whistle.

"Wow, Carla, you look amazing. That L.A. sunshine is really treating you well," she observed, "I'm just gonna pretend I'm not incredibly jealous of that tan, though."

"Oh, shut up, you daft cow. You look fantastic yourself. God, your hair looks stunning like that!" I shot her a gleeful grin, tugging playfully at a few strands of her beautiful ombré locks, which were so much longer than when I'd last seen her face-to-face when she'd had a jet-black bob. She returned the smile, smugly shrugging her shoulders.

"Thanks. Look, all I want to do is to catch up with you, but there are still loads of people to arrive. Head in and grab yourself a drink, I'll finish greeting this lot and then I'll come in and grab you for a dance!" she rambled excitedly, her wide, hazel eyes sparkling. The nerves instantly flooded back to my system at the thought of being without her, but forcing a smile, I nodded in response.

"Yeah… Catch you in a bit, chick…" I replied, my voice trembling. I quickly turned away, not wanting her to see how terrified I was. Luckily, at that moment, a waiter carrying a tray of bubbling champagne glasses passed me and I plucked one of them away, greedily lifting it to my lips. God, I needed a drink.

I slipped past the bar, not wanting to risk being stuck next to a former acquaintance and having to force small talk, and made my way into the main hall, which was brimming with people sat in groups, chatting away and dancing in the middle of the floor. I had no idea that Michelle had this many friends, though I assumed that some of them were friends of friends, judging by the vast age ranges. I desperately looked around the room for a face that I recognised. At that moment, I'd have taken a chat with Sally Webster over nothing. Hovering in the corner, I couldn't seem to see anybody that I'd exchanged more than a few words with in the past; presumably, my former work force were propping up at the bar, as per usual. And then I heard his laugh. As I laid eyes on him for the first time in ten years, I felt my heart skip a beat and my stomach flip uneasily. Liam Connor had a huge grin spread across his face and was in the middle of a crowd of women fawning over him, some of whom I recognised as family friends who we'd grown up with. Seeing him stood only feet away from me, his voice, his hair and his glistening green eyes exactly as I remembered them made me feel faint. I needed air.

Quickly – and desperately trying not to be seen – I darted through the groups of partygoers scattered around, making a beeline for the door the led to what I presumed was a garden of some sort. I didn't care what it was, as long as he wasn't there. This had been a mistake. How could I have been so stupid? Of course he'd be there. Michelle was his baby sister. Fortunately, the smoking area outside was completely empty, probably due to the cool breeze rippling through the air. I'd made it outside without being spotted. Hand still clutching tightly onto my half-full glass of champagne, I approached the little stone wall framing the edge of the area, which was about chest-height, and placed my hands on top of it, taking a deep breath and staring out into the garden beyond, trying not to throw up. I scanned my eyes around the scenery, stupidly praying I'd find an escape route that wouldn't involve me heading back inside. I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut as I drained the remainder of my champagne, trying to sink into the peace and quiet of the garden and ignore the buzzing party music inside. I breathed in, and I breathed out. What the hell was I doing here? Trying to focus my thoughts, I became lost in my own little world of regret and self-loathing, unable to feel the presence of another behind me.

"Ten years older and you're still guzzling booze like an Irishman at a free bar." I spun around at the slick, oh-so-familiar voice, dropping my glass as I did so and flinching as it shattered. Liam merely smirked in response, raising an eyebrow. "Butterfingers."

"You know me," I replied, standing up straight and trying to regain my composure. I was a grown woman now; I wasn't the twenty-something who had fallen in love with Liam twenty years ago. "I think alcohol cleanses the soul. You should try it sometime."

"I've missed you and your bitchy little remarks," Liam commented, drawing a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket, plucking one out and placing it between his lips. "Want one?"

"Since when have you smoked?" I asked as he cupped his hand around the end of his cigarette, shielding it from the breeze as he lit it.

"It's not the first time. I don't need to tell you that, though," came Liam's pointed reply, and in that moment, I could have killed him. He _had_ to bring up that night. Where we'd shared a cigarette and I'd realised that he wasn't just my husband-to-be's little brother and was, quite frankly, the love of my life. The lights around us flickered off, though it was still light enough for us to make each other out.

"It's a dirty habit," I responded, hundreds of tiny goosebumps forming across my arms. They weren't from my cold. My skin would be hot to the touch.

"I'm a dirty man." _Fuck_.

"Yeah. It takes a special kind of man to knock up his wife, cheat on her and then go crawling back to her when his bit on the side realises what he's really like and does a runner halfway across the world," I shot back, my eyes flashing angrily at the tone he'd tried to lower our conversation to. He'd grown up a lot; his banter wasn't playful and light-hearted anymore, he was more serious and edgy, and I'd probably done that to him. And to be honest, I was quite drawn to it, it reflected how I'd grown up as a woman as well. But that womanly edge fell away as he took a step closer to me, my back pressing into the wall, and I became a teenage girl again. Not once, however, did I let my eyes drop from his. I wasn't going to let him win this game we were playing.

"You stand there and act as though you don't want to rip my clothes off and ravish me right here, in the dark," he whispered, drawing ever closer to me, his face only centimetres from my own, "But we both know that you've never really been a good liar, Carla…" Feeling his hot breath on my skin felt like every inch of it was on fire. My body ached with longing, desperate to close the gap between us and kiss him like I'd craved for the last decade. But I'd grown up. I shrugged away from him, forcing him to look at the fire in my eyes.

"Go and find your wife, Liam," I snapped, my voice barely above a murmur, "I'm sure she'll be wondering where you've got to." Despising myself for not giving into temptation, I slid past him and disappeared back inside, praying that he didn't follow me. He didn't. I hastily moved back towards the main door that would allow me to escape; I'd be able to make it up to Michelle tomorrow. Before I got there, I felt somebody grab my arm, but it wasn't Liam – their fingers were far too slender.

"Carla?" the soft voice asked, a little bit unsure of herself. My chest filled with affection as I slowly turned around, and I was met by the surprised face of one of the only people in the world who knew my secret: Leanne Battersby. "Flamin' heck, it really is you. Come here…" she breathed, wrapping her arms around me and engulfing me in a tight, caring hug. I squeezed my eyes shut once again, holding back a sob as my repressed emotions from my confrontation with Liam bubbled to the surface.

"God, am I glad to see you…"


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm loving writing this. I'm so glad that people are reading and enjoying - thank you so much for your reviews, they really do mean a lot to me. This update is a bit shorter than the others so far, I just want to get back to Liarla, to be honest :P.**

 **Hope you like it,**

 **Chloe xoxo**

* * *

Armed with two glasses of wine each, Leanne and I elbowed our way over to a booth to the side of the room, away from the various sets of wide eyes which had taken to following me around the hall. My jaw had started to ache from the forced smiles that I'd flashed at people, and all I really wanted was to be tucked up back home in Los Angeles with a bottle of red and a few good films. What a Grandma I'd turned out to be. Instead, I was gulping down my wine like I'd been stranded in a desert for weeks, eager to drown out the white noise which seemed to have settled in my ears since feeling Liam's hot breath against my skin.

"Carla?" Leanne repeated, interrupting my thoughts.

"Hm?" I murmured, placing my first empty glass down on the table and greedily running my tongue across my lips. My friend arched an eyebrow.

"I thought you'd cut back on your drinking last time I spoke to you?"

"That was last time. Last time was a long time ago. Things change, people change," I waffled, distracted by my heightened anxiety as my eyes flickered across the room, seeking out his. Knowing that he was here was making all my blood rush to my head and bringing an unattractive flushed tone to my cheeks. Thank goodness for makeup.

"Are you alright, Car? You seem on edge," Leanne observed, following my gaze and trying to figure out the reason behind my nerves. Looking back to her, I smiled unconvincingly.

"Me? I'm fine. Where's your other half tonight?" I asked in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from myself as the lead topic. Leanne laughed, bitterly.

"Peter? Dunno. He scurried off to Portsmouth with his tail between his legs after cheating on me with our babysitter. Leaving me with his fourteen-year-old, of course." My eyes grew wide in surprise, more so due to Leanne's blasé and indifferent manner.

"Flamin' heck. I'm sorry, love…" Leanne merely shrugged her shoulders, offering me a small yet sad smile.

"Don't be. His loss. I'm done with men, though, they're a toxic substance." She took a sip of her large glass of white wine, her eyes fixed on mine, before the corners of her lips twisted up into a knowing smirk. "What about your other half?" I blinked at her in surprise.

"Mine? Newsflash, love, I gave up on blokes years ago. Like you said, toxic substance."

"Have you spoken to Liam yet?" At the utterance of his name, my throat dried up, and my heart seemed to freeze and drop into the pit of my stomach. I tried to disguise my discomfort by draining the remainder of my second glass of wine, but my eyes glazed over and Leanne's meaningful nod told me that she could read me like a book.

"Oh, him… No. He won't have even noticed I'm here," I lied, glancing down at my hands in my lap.

"Oh yeah? Try telling that to his face."

"You what?"

"He's been staring at you since we sat down," Leanne explained, glancing over my shoulder. I followed her gaze, looking back behind me, and caught his piercing blue eyes with my own, sending an uncontrollable shiver up my spine. I quickly tore my eyes away and looked back at Leanne, who had that stupid smirk plastered across her face once again.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't look at me like that," I pleaded. Her smirk dropped, and was replaced by a genuine expression of concern.

"Just be careful, Carla, if you're gonna go there again. Look how much it screwed you up last time, and Michelle says that you've really got your life together now."

"Who says I'm going there again?" came my cool response as I picked absentmindedly at my long, manicured fingernails, a crimson blush filling the apples of my cheeks. "That was what the old Carla would have done. The new one is a grown-up and doesn't sleep with unavailable men and break the heart of rich psychopaths."

"This new, grown-up Carla hasn't got any better at lying, has she?" Leanne teased gently. I shot her a glare, completely lost for words for a moment before a cheerful voice from behind us saved me and drew the attention from our intense conversation.

"I have shots!" Michelle sung, setting a tray of little glasses filled with colourful liquid on our table and shuffling into the seat beside me, throwing her arm around my shoulders and squeezing me tightly, prompting a laugh to pass my lips. "Ugh, I've missed you!"

"Are you sure you need these?" I joked.

"Not as much as you, clearly." Michelle snorted, poking me playfully in the shoulder. "Grumpy-arse."

"What even are they?" Leanne asked, picking up one of the glasses and creasing her eyebrow as she cautiously sniffed the contents. Michelle shrugged.

"Dunno. Alcohol, that'll do for me." She lifted a glass containing purple liquid and clinked it with Leanne's, flashing us a wicked grin. "Bottoms up, ladies!" Reluctantly, Leanne and I followed Michelle's lead and tipped each of the sticky substances down our throats. There were nine; three each. Leanne coughed at her last and stuck out her tongue, setting the shotglass back down on the tray.

"Flamin' hell, that was vile."

"Wimp. Come on, you two, come and dance!" Michelle squealed excitedly, grabbing my hand as she hopped to her feet, stumbling slightly as her stilettos hit the floor, and attempting to tug me with her. I sighed, before standing myself and shooting Leanne a pleading look. She, however, merely raised her hands.

"I'm good here. You go, I'll get the next round in."

"Thanks," I hissed to her, bitterly. As I turned and followed my best friend to the centre of the room, I deliberately caught Liam's gaze once again, holding it for a few seconds. I didn't recognise the expression on his face; he looked serious, and brooding. He didn't hide the fact that his eyes roamed my tightly-clad form before returning to meet mine. Summoning every ounce of strength that I had in me, I forced a seductive smile to grace my lips, letting my eyes linger on his for a few seconds longer before drawing them away and laughing loudly at Michelle's drunken attempt at a dance. The glasses of wine had already risen straight to my head – I didn't drink much back home, which had apparently had an effect on my alcohol tolerance.

Trying to pretend that I couldn't feel Liam's eyes boring into me and burning my skin, I slid my arms around Michelle's waist, who in turn threw hers around my neck, grinning wildly.

"I've missed you…" I admitted, my eyes glazing over at the years and distance I'd placed between us, courtesy of my blazing feelings for her older brother. Michelle smiled, leaning forwards and resting her forehead against mine, lovingly.

"I've missed you, too…" she whispered, solemn despite her intoxicated state. Fortunately, our sombre reminiscence was interrupted by the blaring of Cyndi Lauper's 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' over the speakers and we both laughed loudly, dancing in time with the music. He was still watching me. I could feel it, even though I didn't dare to look over to him.

I was unaware of time passing as I tried to lose myself in the music, atmosphere and my best friend's company. I was grateful when Leanne brushed past me, leaving another large glass of red wine in my hand before sashaying over to chat to Nick Tilsley in the corner of the room. I guzzled it down eagerly, just wanting to increase the buzzing sensation in my mind and veins. It was helping me to loosen up, and to forget myself and all the crap that was happening. And, almost, forget who was watching.

Goodness knows how long we'd been dancing for. Michelle suddenly gasped in surprise as Steve slid his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. She giggled.

"Does it count as cutting in at this kind of thing?" he asked, his words slurring. I awkwardly took a step back as Michelle spun round to face him, planting an eager, sloppy kiss on his lips. I didn't want to interrupt their love-fest. Lifting my chin, I automatically found myself latching on to his eyes once again, his expression still unreadable. He lifted his bottled beer to his lips before setting it down on the table in front of him and moving across the room, breaking our tantalizing exchange of eye contact. Holding my breath, I watched him mutter to Tyrone Dobbs as the mechanic waved a greeting, before slipping out of the room and to the smoking area outside. I didn't hesitate to think. I was far too drunk for rationality.

"I'm just getting some air…" I murmured to Michelle, though I'm sure she didn't hear me, too busy playing tonsil tennis with her husband. I wove in and out of the various familiar faces and strangers until I stepped onto concrete and I felt the chill of the April air grace my skin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello all :). I've officially finished uni until September (unless I have to re-sit my exam)! Which means plenty of time for writing :).**

 **I've decided that my next fic, which I'll start writing after I've finished this one, will be Carla and Peter-based. This is due to the fact that people don't seem to be reading this one, which I've judged by the lack of reviews. It's a shame, because I'm loving writing this fic. If you are reading and enjoying, then please drop me a review to let me know that you're out there!**

 **This is the chapter in which things get serious. Long Live Liarla. Thank you to anyone who is still reading, I really appreciate it and hope that I have done this chapter justice for you.**

 **Thanks again, and I hope you like it :).**

 **Chloe xoxo**

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

We stood silently together for what felt like long, torturous minutes but what was in reality probably a matter of seconds. Liam stared out into the darkness of the garden, and I followed his gaze with my own, both of us looking at something but neither really knowing what. We were just searching for a distraction, something to excuse us from being the first to speak a word. Somebody from inside suddenly slammed the doors to us shut, presumably not noticing us in their drunken state. The sharp noise made me jolt in surprise and glance anxiously over my shoulder, and also seemed to draw Liam out of his trance.

"I didn't think you'd be here," he admitted as he reluctantly angled his body towards mine, though still he refused to meet my eyes. I half-smiled.

"Neither did I. I wasn't going to come, and next thing I knew I was on a flight to Manchester, must have changed my mind some point along the line." I nervously toyed with the Pandora bracelet on my wrist, fingering each of the charms in turn.

"I bet it's weird, being back."

"You could say that. I've missed it, though. The people, and the atmosphere. Yeah, it had its' bad moments and I have enough horrible memories from this place to last me a lifetime, but it was always home. It can be lonely, in L.A."

"So why the hell did you leave?" Liam snapped, his voice raising and causing me to glance up in surprise and meet his eyes, sending a whirl of emotions through my veins yet again. He looked sad, in a way. His cool demeanor from earlier had dropped; not surprising, as I could smell the whiskey on his breath from where I was standing. I slowly released a breath that I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

"I had no choice."

"You could have left with me."

"And leave an unborn child without a dad and a new mother heartbroken? I might be a bitch, Liam, but I do have a heart," I scoffed, hesitating for only a split second before asking the question I'd been dying to know the answer to all evening. "Where is Maria, anyway? Stuck at home looking after the kids?"

"Probably curled up in front of the telly in Cyprus with my son and her new bloke." My body went numb with shock. I opened my mouth to respond but no words came out, even though my mind was now filled with a thousand questions. I almost forgot where I was, as if I was caught up in some vivid dream that was too bizarre to be real. Liam, meanwhile, clearly wasn't dreaming, and I noticed his back straighten as the mysterious mask concealed his true feelings once again. "We split up a few months after he was born. I fly over there sometimes and it kills me being away from him, but they're happy." I swallowed hard.

"Did she…?"

"Find out about us? Yeah. I told her, because I felt like I was living a lie and I couldn't cope with it anymore." His lips curved down in a frown and he quickly looked away from me, trying to hide the hurt that suddenly flashed in his eyes. "I was going to try to find you, but Michelle showed me some of the photos of you and your new Beach Boys pissing about in your bikinis and Speedos."

"I'm sorry, Liam, I didn't get the instruction to join a convent when I landed in the States," I hissed, a bubble of anger suddenly rising inside me, heightened by my intoxication. "I had every right to get over you."

"Well, I'm glad one of us could!" Liam snapped, completely turning away from me now and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, as he always did when he was nervous. He paused briefly. "I've thought about you every single day. I haven't been able to be happy since you left." I stared at my shoes. My breath was heavy, my pulse racing so hard that it was almost jumping through my skin. He was feeding me words that I had longed to hear since long before our first kiss, and now I had them, I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with them. I felt a finger slip underneath my chin and lift my face up to his, my skin burning hot. I tried to read him, but I had no idea what he was going to say next. "I've spent ten years wanting to see you again. To touch you like this… God, you feel so real." I didn't want to give too much of myself away. I was a New Carla, now. A woman, not a silly little girl who believed in true love and fairytale endings. I'd learned that things don't go right for everyone, there always has to be some catch where people get hurt. So I looked away, and his hand dropped to his side. Desperately, I tried to regain control of my breathing and my heavily-thudding heart.

"We shouldn't be doing this…" I whispered unconvincingly, my voice catching and trembling under the intensity of his gaze, which I could feel against my skin. He said nothing for a moment, and I thought that I had won our battle for dominance, and that he would leave and we would never speak of our exchange again. But Liam always managed to surprise me. He cupped my cheek with his hand and coaxed me to look at him again, not that it took much persuasion. I held back a gasp at the heat of his palm on my cheek, his familiar fingertips stirring a longing inside of me. His mischievous, boyish smile returned to his lips, and he suddenly became the man who I had spent most of my adult life trying not to be completely in love with.

"Since when has that ever stopped us?" he breathed, before drawing towards me and catching his lips with mine. My hands crept to his hips as his fell either side of my neck, and I let out a sigh of contentment against his lips. He edged me backwards a few steps until I felt my back press against the wall, and he took my sigh as a sign of approval, deepening the kiss and losing his fingers in the curls of my long hair. I lost all sense of who I was, where we were and how much alcohol was buzzing through my system; all I knew was that what we were doing felt so right. My hands crawled up his stomach and to his chest and, my god, I desperately needed to feel what was underneath. Longingly, my fists tightened and I gripped the material of his shirt between my fingers. Brushing my tongue against his had every hair on my body standing on end, and his low moan hummed against my lips. He quickly, urgently, trailed his kisses across my jaw and down my neck, his teeth lightly nipping at my skin. God, he felt amazing.

Then, like a dagger striking through the atmosphere, the door behind us banged open and I quickly sprung away from Liam, the palm of my hand holding him away from me. There was silence, other than the heavy panting of our matching breaths. I allowed my body a few seconds to calm, before slowly beginning to regain control of my senses. My eyes flickered up to his face, though he was still staring longingly at my lipstick-smeared lips.

"I'll go… You follow," I murmured. It took all of my strength and willpower to slide past him and move towards the now-wide open door that led back through to the main hall. I tried not to look back, until I felt a hand grab my wrist.

"Carla…" I spun around. His eyes were almost pleading.

"I'll go, you follow," I repeated, before fiercely looking away and moving back inside. The bodies had begun to gravitate towards the small stage at the side of the room, where Michelle and Steve were dancing around, Michelle clasping a microphone.

"Okay, everyone, listen up please. Before you all get completely bladdered, I've just got a couple of people I want to thank," Michelle slurred, coming to a standstill at the centre of the stage. Everyone in the room hushed, and I looked up at my best friend, a small smile gracing my features.

"Firstly, all of you, thank you so much for being here today. It honestly means so much to me. To my mum and dad especially, you've had to fly all the way here just to come to a fancy birthday party for me."

I followed Michelle's gaze, where I was startled to see Helen and Barry Connor stood at the edge of the room, by the side of the stage. I hadn't noticed them before. I quickly tried to avert my eyes, suddenly feeling very anxious at the thought of crossing my former in-laws again.

"Then there's my big brother, wherever the hell you are. Wherever there's a good-looking woman, knowing you," Michelle teased, scanning the crowd for beloved brother. I jolted in surprise as I suddenly felt a warm hand brush across the small of my back, coming to rest suggestively on my backside. I bit down firmly on my lower lip as I turned to look up at Liam, whose smirk lit up his face as nodded at his sister. She grinned back at him. "I couldn't have organized all of this without your help. And that leads me to my very best friend in the whole world." I felt tears prick my eyes as they locked with Michelle's.

"Tonight is the first time I've seen her in ten years. She's flown all the way from America to be here, and that really is the best present I could have asked for." My breath caught in my throat as Liam's palm crept to rest on the curve of my waist, though subtly, to shield it from view. As he circled his thumb comfortingly around my hip bone, my mind blurred and I couldn't make sense of the rest of Michelle's tipsy speech, in which she thanked various friends and family members for their contributions. It wasn't until she turned to Steve beside her that I regained my senses and quickly brushed Liam's hand away, stepping away from him.

"You mean the world to me, Steve McDonald," Michelle concluded, placing a kiss to Steve's lips to the cheer of her audience. I moved to stand beside Leanne, who raised her eyebrow at my return but chose to say nothing. Glancing back over my shoulder, my eyes met his once again. He was staring at me. The game was still on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Another short update. After this, there will be two more chapters of this fic. I'm loving writing it. Thank you to anybody still reading.**

 **Chloe xoxo**

ooooooooooooooooooo

Leanne's words ricochetted off of me like hailstones off of a rooftop, none penetrating the intensity of my thoughts. I sipped on my red wine, swallowing hard, my gaze fixed on Liam across the room. I studied the creases on his face, and the curve of his lips as they formed a smile; then, the beautiful grin that appeared with his mesmerising laugh. He wasn't looking at me. He was engulfed in conversation with Steve, who had left Michelle alone to say goodbye to friends who lived far and were leaving early. That was, until he paused to take a swig of his beer and raised his eyes to meet mine. My heart jolted, but I didn't look away. Instead, I shot him a knowing smirk and batted my long, dark eyelashes. I was met with a similar smile of his own. Liam quickly scanned my body, before responding with an approving wink. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks, and suddenly I was grinning widely. What that man did to me was beyond description.

"Ugh, you're unbearable..." Leanne groaned from beside me, interrupting my silent conversation with my former lover. I instantly turned to her, brought out of my trance.

"Hm?" I asked, blinking a few times in an attempt to settle my mind. She rolled her eyes, and I took another sip of my drink.

"You two. It's like watching your foreplay." I choked on the liquid and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, staring at my friend with wide eyes. Hers sparkled mischievously, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard... What happened?" Leanne looked at me earnestly, trying to coax an honest response from me, but I only faltered for a second before placing my mask back on again.

"Nothing happened." I sighed, rolling my eyes at my now-empty wine glass and turning swiftly on my heel, desperate to change the course of our conversation. "Fancy another?" I hastily strode across the crowded hall, brushing past familiar and not-so-familiar faces until I felt Leanne's grip on my wrist, mirroring Liam's grip earlier that evening. Shocked, I froze, and spun back around to face her.

"Carla, I'm not stupid," Leanne replied, lowering her voice so as not to attract attention. "You can't lie to me. And neither can that whopping great mark on your neck." Panicked, my hand flew to cup the side of my neck, cursing under my breath as I suddenly became aware of the slight pulsing beneath my skin. _Damn it, Liam_.

"Makeup must have smudged..." I mumbled, rubbing furiously at the mark on my neck, knowing full well that my cheeks were flushing a brilliant shade of scarlet. Leanne raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest, saying nothing. "What?" I snapped. She shrugged.

"Funny colour makeup to pick."

"I'm not doing this here."

"No, maybe not, but we are doing this." Before I could stop her, Leanne grabbed my hand and dragged me past the bar and into the seclusion of the ladies' toilets. She plucked my empty glass from my hand and turned my face away from her, examining the telltale bruise at the crease of my neck. "God, I can't believe the two of you are such idiots. What are you, fifteen?" I scowled, feeling about two feet tall and like I was being scolded by my mother.

"It weren't meant to happen..." I mumbled, self-consciously covering my neck once again as Leanne began to rummage through her clutch bag, eventually drawing out a small, white concealer stick.

"This is gonna be a bit light for you and your fancy new tan, but it's better than you walking round like you bumped into Dracula on the way here." She pushed up onto her tip toes and began prodding my bruise with the stick. I winced at the contact, though I didn't feel any pain, and crinkled my nose. I watched her movements in the large mirror beside us, debating commenting on the events of the night.

"I thought I'd be able to handle him tonight," I hastily admitted, "I hoped I would look at him and just... Feel nothing."

"And what do you feel?" I hesitated.

"Everything." Leanne sighed, stepping back to admire her handiwork before meeting my eyes and offering me a sad, sympathetic smile.

"Some blokes are impossible to get over, no matter how hard we try." The sincerity in her words suggested to me that she was talking from experience, and I suddenly remembered the frantic conversation that had occurred between my friend and Nick Tilsley earlier that evening. "So, what happened?"

"I was doing fine. He was affecting me, he always does, but I didn't let him know it." I took a deep breath and leant back against the sinks, lowering my gaze. "Then he mentioned Maria, and he wasn't married and unavailable anymore. And then..." I trailed off.

"And then...?" Leanne prompted me, and I lifted my head to look at her once more, a smile toying on my lips.

"And then he kissed me. And I felt like myself again for the first time in ten years."

"So, what happens now?" That, I didn't have an answer to. What did I really want from this? I'd be back in LA within a week. This was only a fleeting visit. Was I looking for some kind of doomed holiday romance? A one-night thing? That was all we ever had been, really; a ten-year one-night-stand entwined with forbidden love. I hadn't planned for any of this.

"I don't really know. Maybe he'll changed his mind." Leanne snorted.

"Hardly likely."

"I'm just gonna wait and see. I'm going home soon. What happens now is irrelevant, really."

"Unless whatever Liam does convinces you to stay...?" Leanne trailed off, raising an eyebrow, hopefully. I hesitated for a moment before tossing my hair over my shoulder and turning to the mirror.

"Not a chance, love." I drew my Mac lipstick from my clutch bag and quickly fixed my makeup, pouting at my reflection. I still looked good for forty-three, though I couldn't deny the shudder that the faint frown lines and creases across my forehead gave me. I was getting older, I was single and I was destined to enter my elder years alone. Since Liam, no other man had made my heart race in the same way, and I wasn't prepared to live a lie with a second-rate bloke while I was still in love with him. "Fancy a drink?" Without waiting for an answer from Leanne, I strode towards the door, my stature now filled with confidence. Behind that door was another, blocking both the male and female toilets from the bar. And when that door swung open, just as I was about to reach for it, my resolve suddenly disappeared. Liam's blue eyes instantly latched onto mine, and for a second I was rendered speechless.

"Carla," he uttered, issuing me a solemn nod, his tone just as mysterious as it had been before our kiss. He then noticed Leanne stood behind me. "Evening, Leanne."

"Liam." Leanne's voice was cold and sharp. She had told me before that she'd never forgiven Liam for how he'd treated me, how he'd driven me away. I couldn't breathe. I stepped aside to allow him to pass me, and as his body brushed mine, it felt as though thousands of fireworks exploded inside me. He paused, and I noticed that his own breath was trembling, but he eventually passed me and disappeared into the men's toilets. I stood rooted to the spot for a couple of seconds, before coming to my senses and pushing the door to the bar open, trying to shake the longing from my mind. I headed straight for the bar; another drink was well-deserved.

Propping myself up against it, I breathed in deeply, allowing my eyelids to flutter shut briefly. I needed to pull myself together. I wasn't a teenager, I wasn't even in my thirties and having an exhilarating affair with a married man. I was a grown-up now. Except I didn't really feel it when my heart was pounding and the hairs on my arms were standing on end, still tainted by Liam's touch..

"Hey, erm... Grab me another glass of red, I'll be back in a second..." Leanne mumbled, disappearing from my side before I could reply. I turned my head to watch her as she glided across the room, a smirk forming on my lips when I saw who it was she was going to. Nick's eyes were full of love for my friend, and I felt genuinely happy for them. They weren't an item, but I had noticed the way they'd been watching each other all evening. They were almost as bad as me and Liam. The barman grabbed my attention and I quickly ordered two glasses of red wine, before rummaging in my bag for my purse. I froze, however, as I felt a warm hand grace my hip, and glanced up in surprise as another placed a £10 note on the bar. I breathed in deeply, and then out. The next round was about to commence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, we are on the final stretch now. After this, there will be one more chapter to Liam and Carla's story. It's pretty emotional for me, as I very rarely end up finishing fics, but I've been wanting to write this for a while and am sad that it's over.**

 **Thank you SO much to the reviewers of my last chapter - I was over the moon to see that there are still people reading and enjoying this. It really does mean a lot to me. I know that Liam and Carla happened a long time ago, and that Johnny's confession makes their relationship a tad controversial, but it's lovely to see that there are others out there who still hold a torch for them.**

 **I have another project coming up once this fic is wrapped up which I'll reveal in the last update. I'm very excited about it as it encapsulates everything that interests me right now. Stay tuned!**

 **I hope you all like this. We're nearly there, now. Thanks again for reading. :)**

 **Chloe xoxo**

ooooooooooooooooooo

Neither I nor Liam uttered a word for a few seconds, each just staring intently into each other's eyes. I attempted speech, though my voice caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard instead. I could feel my pulse jumping in my veins and suddenly became conscious that it was visible; that he would be able to hear the thud of my heartbeat. I didn't even notice as my drink was placed down in front of me, though I couldn't have torn my eyes away from my handsome former flame if I'd tried.

"Dance with me...?" he murmured, a playful smile toying on his lips. I didn't know how to answer that - and few people are able to claim that they have made Carla Connor lost for words.

"What?"

"You heard..." Liam smiled to the bartender as he slid a note across the bar and accepted his own drink, a small glass of pungent, golden liquid. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip, not even flinching at the bitter taste. "Dance with me." I scoffed, trying to relax and regain the ever-present composure that I was renowned for.

"Haven't we done enough dancing around each other already tonight?" I replied, raising an eyebrow as I scrutinized him, warily. "And since when have you drank whiskey?" Liam shrugged with an alluring nonchalance, swirling his drink before downing the remainder of it.

"We've all grown up, haven't we? I smoke and drink whiskey, you drink less and look like a goddess." I rolled my eyes at that.

"Ever the charmer." Smirking secretly, I plucked my glasses of wine from the bar and turned my back on him, moving to weave through the crowds to find my friend. I felt his presence linger behind me, however, his hand discreetly brushing against the back of my dress. As I passed Leanne and - surprise, surprise - Nick, I handed her her drink and flashed her a knowing glance. She simply raised her eyebrows at me and watched as I allowed Liam to guide me into the main hall, which was still busy yet had begun to empty as the hours passed. I stopped at the edge of the dance floor and turned back to him, teasingly sipping my wine. "I don't know why you're following me. I can't dance; I'm busy."

Not missing a beat, Liam gently took the glass from my hand, took a long swig himself, and set it down on the table behind him. Then, he offered me his hand, which, at first, I was reluctant to take.

"I don't bite." Eventually, I found myself placing my hand in his, and he led me further onto the dance floor - but not before murmuring into my ear. "Unless you ask me to." He smirked as my cheeks turned scarlet, and his eyes darted pointedly to the barely-covered mark on the side of my neck. "Nice bruise, by the way."

"You're an animal."

"Careful," he uttered, turning me to face him and gracing my hips with his hands. A smile plastered on my face, I snaked my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers together behind his head. "You almost sound like you enjoyed it." I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could do so, the pop song playing in the background faded out and was replaced by a song that had held pride of place in my heart for more than twenty years. I groaned, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Typical. I bet you planned this." Liam smiled.

"No. It's fate." As the opening chords of The Verve's 'The Drugs Don't Work' filled our ears, Liam lightly circled my hip bones with his thumbs. If I concentrated, I could feel his hands trembling; knowing that he was nervous strangely made me feel more at ease. For the first time, the familiar tune's words actually made sense to me. The idea of getting older alone had started to get me down, unlike ten years ago, where it had seemed like I'd had my whole life ahead of me.

"Do you remember ten years ago?" I asked Liam, absentmindedly. He frowned, but nodded regardless.

"Which part of it?" He asked, suggestively. I didn't give him the playful response he was hoping for, merely sighing.

"We thought we were adults. But we were still mucking about, sleeping with people we shouldn't and making stupid decisions. It didn't seem to matter back then."

"Are you saying that we're too old for this?"

"No. I'm saying that we're too old to make stupid decisions now."

"Do you think this is a stupid decision?" I smiled coyly up at him through my dark eyelashes.

"I haven't made any decisions yet," I pointed out. We swayed together in silence for a while, both of us looking deep into one another's eyes, looking as picturesque as a fairytale. Liam tipped his head forward slightly, and I resisted the urge to meet his forehead with my own, not wanting to cause a scandal right in the middle of Michelle's big night. Instead, I remained content with the way that his hands subtly roamed down to brush against my backside every now and then, before returning to rest on the small of my back. The familiar chords of the music brought memories flooding back to me. "How much do you remember of that night?" Liam chuckled.

"Full of nostalgia tonight, aren't you?" he teased, "I remember all of it. Every last second."

"I don't regret it."

"Neither do I."

"I just… Regret what happened after. You know… Before I left."

"It was a long time ago." Liam shrugged, though despite his attempt to act indifferent, I could see the hurt behind his eyes. "Kid stuff." Again, we fell into silence. I felt guilty, and there was nothing that I could say to take away the years of pain that I had caused him. Eventually, I broke the awkwardness of our momentary lapse in conversation by glancing around behind us, suddenly aware that there were, in fact, others in the room.

"How obvious do you think we look?"

"Like sinners." I shivered at Liam's response. God, I wanted to sin with him. The thought made a bright crimson appear in the apples of my cheeks, which Liam soon noticed. He smirked.

"I like that I can still make you blush, even after all these years." I shot him a glare, and lightly thumped his chest with the back of my hand.

"Oh, shut up, you pillock." I grinned, embarrassed. The playful glimmer in his blue eyes made my skin buzz with excitement, only heightening my attraction to him. What I wouldn't give to be able to sneak off into a cupboard with him right now and-…

"Oooh, hello, you two!" came an excited squeal from behind me, and I jumped in surprised, suddenly pulled from my indecent fantasy with a sharp jolt. Michelle shimmied into view, a broad grin spread across her face. It was clear that she was having the time of her life. I flashed her a weak smile, still trying to steady my racing pulse as the visions of Liam and I in a state of undress faded from my mind.

"Having fun?" I asked, my voice notably shaky. I could see Liam smirking knowingly out of the corner of my eye. Fortunately, Michelle was too intoxicated to notice the tension between the pair of us. She nodded, cheerfully.

"You know what would make my night even more perfect?" Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around our shoulders and pulled us into a three-way hug. "A dance with the best brother and best friend that I could ever wish for."

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I quickly wished them away as the opening chords of 'Wonderwall' filled the room. I was instantly taken back to an Oasis concert that the three of us, along with Paul, Dean and whichever pretty blonde Liam had been sleeping with at the time, had attended in our youth. My years as part of the Connor family had been some of the best – and most stable – of my tumultuous life. I really had grown up with Liam and his family.

"What do you say, Car?" Liam asked, glancing down at me, wearing a smile that matched my own. He took my hand in his, lightly brushing his thumb across my knuckle before lacing his fingers through my own. The small act caused goosebumps to appear over my arms, and my breath to catch in my throat. He was something else. "We can't go letting the birthday girl down, can we?"

I rolled my eyes playfully. I don't know how long the three of us spent together, dancing wildly and singing at the top of our lungs to the eighties and nineties classics that the DJ had selected. It didn't seem like long enough at all, and I felt happier during that time that I had in years. I was finally reunited with my best friends; my family.

I don't know what time it was that the music faded out and the lights were switched back on. When Michelle and Liam left my side to say goodbye to relatives who had travelled a long distance to be present tonight. When I felt Leanne's hand on my back, before she scooped me up in a tight hug, and told me that I was more than welcome to spend the night at her flat, to save me the expensive taxi journey home. I shook my head and politely declined, but thanked her for the kind offer. I already had somewhere to sleep tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, this is it. Thank you so much to every single one of you who has read this fic, it means so much to me. It was an idea that had been in my mind for a while, and I'm quite sad that it has finished.**

 **Thank you to Blondchixej for your lovely review of the last chapter - it's great to see another Liarla fan who is still around! I remember being on a dedicated Liarla forum back in the day! I doubt this'll be the last of my Liarla work.**

 **The one good thing that'll come of the end of this fic is the beginning of my next one. I'm intending for it to be called 'Roll Camera' (though knowing me, that could change!). It'll be M-rated to be safe, and it will mainly be Peter/Carla, but other characters such as Roy, Frank and Nick will be heavily featured. Carla and Peter have been described by multiple sources as 'the Burton and Taylor of the Street' - so why not give them a Hollywood story of their own?**

 **Once again, thank you to all who have read and reviewed. I really hope you have enjoyed this. The last chapter is fairly short compared to some, but I didn't want to long it out. I think it does what it needs to.**

 **Thanks again for everything!**

 **Chloe xoxo**

ooooooooooooo

The bodies around me blurred together as I glanced around the room with hazy eyes, the copious amount of alcohol that I had consumed that evening well and truly settled in my bloodstream. As drunk as I was, though, I was still capable of making decisions. In fact, I probably hadn't even had that much; it had just been a long time since I had last let my hair down. I'd never really felt the need to back in Los Angeles. But in Weatherfield, everything was a different story.

Los Angeles. Why couldn't I just call it home?

I sighed to myself, automatically knowing the answer to my own question. Because it wasn't home. It hadn't really ever been, it was more just a temporary escape from a permanent problem. Home was where my family were, the friends that I'd known for years, a job that I'd loved and things that I cared about. Suzie was great, and living with her was a blast, but she'd reached the stage where she had settled with a husband and had recently had a baby, and now I was more of an awkward lodger than a housemate. I had a job I tolerated, acquaintances who were a good laugh on a Friday night at the pub, but who didn't really have much depth to them. They weren't Michelle, or Leanne, or Liam. They were just stand-ins.

I was quickly finding it the case that the longer I stayed in Weatherfield, the further I got from being able to leave.

I watched, smiling silently, as Nick coaxed Leanne out of the front door of the establishment, his hand subtly yet affectionately resting on the small of the back and guiding her in the direction of the taxi rank. I was so pleased to finally see her happy. She deserved it, after the years of suffering that she'd endured with her cheating ex-husband. Then, I spotted Michelle, with her arms wrapped around an intoxicated Sean Tully, both of them belting out 'Don't Look Back In Anger' at the top of their lungs. She was Liam and Paul's sister through-and-through. Steve was hovering behind her, propping himself up with the back of a chair. If I was to go back to the life that I'd lived for the last decade, I would miss so many moments like this. Could I actually do it?

There was, however, the other side of the coin to consider. If I were to stay, hypothetically speaking, would I be able to cope seeing Liam every day and not being able to touch him? To stand near him in the pub, or to cross him in the street, and not want to grab him and push my lips against his? His being single didn't mean that we should be together. I almost wanted to laugh at the sheer thought of the pair of us trying to fathom a normal relationship, arguing over whose turn it was to do the dishes and who ate the last of the cereal in the morning. We'd been family for years, and friends for a lifetime. I didn't know how well that would translate into a relationship, especially after how much had happened between the two of us in the past.

As if he could read my mind, I suddenly felt large, familiar hands grace my waist. I closed my eyes and drew in a sharp intake of breath, my concerns and doubts ebbing away.

He spun me to face him. He was wearing that cocky smile that had first attracted me to him, and that still made my heart race years later. His eyes drifted down my body, before meeting my own as he gave an approving nod. I couldn't breathe.

"So…?" Liam trailed off, expectantly wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. I couldn't stop staring at that tongue, and those lips, and thinking of how much I longed for them to touch mine.

"So…?" I scarcely whispered in response. I could feel his hands creeping around me and lacing at my back, drawing me closer to him. I gulped. "You're going to cause a riot…" He chuckled at my warning.

"You already are a riot," he murmured, tilting his forehead to rest lightly against mine. I didn't care who saw us now. "You look gorgeous."

"I know." I smirked in spite of myself. "Some weirdo keeps telling me."

"And which weirdo might that be? Do I need to beat him up?"

"Oh, he's no one important. Just some Manc with a cheeky smile and ladykiller baby blues."

"'Ladykiller'? He sounds like a right catch."

"He doesn't scrub up too badly…" I realised then that we were swaying softly. There was a faint rumbling of music still issuing from the speakers; I didn't recognize it, but it was slow. Perfect. Suddenly, Liam released me from his arms, and it took all of my restraint to not complain about it. Instead, he brushed a loose strand of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear, before affectionately rubbing the soft pad of his thumb across the apple of my cheek.

"Every time I see you, you look more and more beautiful. At this rate, you're going to be the hottest-looking eighty-year-old that's ever graced the planet," he teased, prompting a harsh blush from my cheeks.

"Anyone would think that you were trying to get me into bed."

"Oh, no, I know that you're far too ladylike for that these days…" Liam mumbled, moving slightly closer to me so that I was able to feel the warmth of his breath against my face, "You're a changed woman, remember?" There was a beat, while I tried to regain control of my mind.

"Changed women can still let their hair down from time to time…" As his lips brushed mine, every nerve ending in my body sprung to attention, and every inch of me craved his touch like a drug that I'd spent decades trying to live without. I placed my hands on his chest, resisting the urge to bundle his shirt tightly in my fists. His tongue slid into my mouth and the kiss deepened, both of us oblivious to the gasps around us and the dozens of pairs of eyes boring into our backs. We were on display for the world to see now, but for some reason, it didn't matter. We were both single. We were content with our lives. Why not live a little and see where things took us?

The silence that had fallen over the room broke out into frantic whispers, some of disbelief, others of claims that they'd sensed it all along, that the chemistry between Liam and I had been obvious from day dot. Liam smiled against my lips and felt for my hand, which he grasped lovingly with his own, our fingers interlocked. He led me through the staring sea of faces, eyes bulging out of their sockets and jaws dropped to the floor, and outside into the bitter April air. It was late; the streetlights surrounding the area had long been switched off, covering us in darkness which was broken only by the stream of headlights provided by the run of taxis. As we approached them, Liam hesitated, turning back to me.

"That enough of a stir for you?" he joked, eyes flickering over my shoulder and back at the venue before returning to my face. I laughed.

"I didn't want to cause a stir."

"'Course you did, coming here dressed like a dream." Liam ran his hand down the curve of my waist, before toying longingly with the hem of my short dress with his thumb and forefinger. "Are you coming back to mine?" he asked. This was it. The moment of truth.

If I went home with Liam tonight, I'd probably never leave. I could kiss goodbye to my life of sunshine, sea and Sex On The Beach cocktails in Los Angeles. I don't think I'd be able to tear myself away from Liam Connor again.

But why was I contemplating that as something negative? What did I really have back in the States that I'd be missing? And could that compare to what I would miss if I went back?

My green eyes glittered mischievously, and a smile formed on my plump lips. I didn't give Liam an answer, merely turning to the nearest taxi and bending down to the driver's window. I flashed him a grin as he rolled it down.

"Number Seven, Coronation Street, please, love." I pulled the door open and slid into the leather seat, crinkling my nose at the musky stench that seemed to plague all taxis around here. It was nothing like the beautifully fragranced cabs in California. But as Liam climbed in next to me, shuffled close and wrapped an arm around my waist, that didn't matter. As his hand found mine, and he laced our fingers together and circled his thumb around the knucklebone of my index finger, I lost all sense of what I would miss back in Los Angeles. I was back where I belonged. That mattered more to me than anything else in the world. I was home.


End file.
